


Hidden and Forgotten

by Brave_Soul_And_Heart



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst, Drug and Alcohol Use, Healthy Communication, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Character Death, Protective Yakov, Understanding Yuuri, past guilt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2020-06-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:13:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24715864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brave_Soul_And_Heart/pseuds/Brave_Soul_And_Heart
Summary: When Yuuri is reminded of an old rinkmate of Victors, Victor admits to something he's kept hidden for years, out of shame and guilt. Revealing that he was present in Alexei's last hours, Victor now worries that he'll lose Yuuri too when he knows the truth.(And of course Yuuri won't leave him)
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov
Comments: 2
Kudos: 49





	Hidden and Forgotten

Yuuri’s first season with Victor as his coach had finally finished, with a mix of good and amazing results. Yuuri had come first at both nationals and 4CC, and third at Worlds. Chris had surprised everyone and came first at Worlds, and Victor had come second. World Team Trophy was extremely fun, even though Russia won by a milestone, and Yuuri and Victor were settling down in their hotel room after a good night out in a Tokyo bar.

Victor was in the shower while Yuuri perused social media, sitting on his bed in boxers and a t-shirt. Many of their skating friends were at the competition that year, but those like Chris and Phichit who were from countries not in WTT, had to make due with watching the streams and cheering from afar. Unfortunately for Yuuri, Phichit was retweeting the fan screenshots and photos of Yuuri, whether they be his butt in a provocative position or the faces he made when he jumped, so most of his dashboard were of his own face. Of course there were a lot of Victor too, considering Yuuri followed a dedicated accounts of him, but sometimes the odd photo would slide its way in. Some were beautiful shots of skaters during their programs, some were people posting pictures with fans, and there were a handful of throwback pictures of previous WTTs. 

That was how Yuuri came across a photo of Victor from about eight years ago, smiling with the others in team Russia after coming third in WTT 2009. Victor’s hair was still long, and Yuuri guessed this was his last season with his iconic long hair before his dramatic reappearance at practice a month later with the new cropped style. Yuuri hadn’t seen this photo before, as his social media presence didn’t start until late 2010, and he was fascinated at picking apart every detail. He could pick a few older skaters who’d retired, the few who still competed, the smiles, the medals, Victor’s arms round his fellow Russians. Yuuri could name the female skater on Victor’s right, but the male skater on Victor’s left was someone Yuuri probably knew the name of, but had forgotten. Reading through the caption of the picture, Yuuri worked out the man’s name was Alexei.

_Alexei_. The name rang a bell.

A quick google search later and Yuuri remembered Alexei. Not for his skating career, as short as it was, but for what happened shortly after the photo. Alexei had gone to a party and overdosed, shocking the skating world for a month before being practically forgotten. Yuuri could remember reading a magazine with Yuuko at Ice Castle about Alexei, how there were calls for the ISU to take away Alexei’s past achievements and accusations he was a drug cheat and a crackhead. It was a really sad time, and many were looking to other Russian skaters, wondering if they too were taking drugs or digging to see if Alexei was a bad apple. The media was going crazy, harassing the skaters, demanding drug tests, surrounding all the rinks despite the off season just starting. It didn’t help that the ISU didn’t find any cause to test any other skaters as none were found to be at the party Alexei was at, and nor did they find anything suspicious in Alexei’s apartment or locker at the rink. 

As Yuuri was reading about all that happened, remembering it all, Victor emerged from the bathroom, dressed in the hotel fluffy robe. He walked over to Yuuri and sat next to him on the bed.

“What are you looking at?” Victor asked, looking at Yuuri’s screen. It was something they were both comfortable with, so Yuuri didn’t shy away and hide his screen, instead turning it so Victor could see the picture too.

“Do you remember Alexei? He used to skate at your rink. And he was part of the Russian team for Team Trophy in 2009.”

Victor didn’t reply, and it took Yuuri a few moments to notice the silence. Turning to face Victor, he realised Victor wasn’t looking at Yuuri’s phone, but intently at his hands clasped in his lap, gripping tightly to each other enough to turn his knuckles white. He didn’t look mad, or upset, but something was definitely wrong.

“Victor?” Yuuri tried softly, taking Victor’s hands in his own and gently stroking his thumb on the top on Victor’s hand. Yuuri didn’t speak again until Victor looked at him, a resigned look that took Yuuri aback, as if Victor was about to surrender. “What’s wrong?” 

Victor’s mind had raced through several emotions at once as soon as he saw the photo – surprise, sorrow, guilt, acceptance – but when he looked at Yuuri, he’d made up his mind.

“I do remember Alexei, Yuuri. And,” he hesitated. “And I think there’s something I should share with you. Something only Yakov knows.”

“Victor?” Yuuri tried again when Victor’s words seemed to catch in his throat. 

“You… you may not think the same of me after, and I wouldn’t blame you. But I want you to know, because it’s the part of my past I’m not proud of, and if it ever came out…”

Victor sighed and looked away, having trouble knowing what to say. He couldn’t soften it, no matter how hard he wanted to, not wanting to push Yuuri away or have him hate him.

Yuuri reached out and gently pulled Victor to face him again. “Victor, whatever you want to tell me, I’ll listen,” he said, smiling softly.

Victor nodded.

“Maybe start at the beginning,” Yuuri suggested, and Victor nodded again.

~

_St Petersburg, April 2009_

“Come on, Victor! While no one’s seen your new hair yet, escape with me, party, drink, party more, then come home and have a hangover!” Alexei was leaning over Victor’s counter, begging him to go to a party of a friend of a friend of a friend. 

It was set to be huge, at least a couple hundred people at a penthouse in the city. Alexei was no stranger to parties like these, but Victor was surprisingly sheltered, mostly due to his dedication to his sport. It wasn’t to say Alexei wasn’t either, rather he was quite good, usually a jump or two behind Victor in competitions. But Yakov had refused to take Alexei on, and instead the young skater went to a different coach at the same rink as Victor. Usually there was limited contact between Victor and Alexei because of their different coaches, but over the recent season there was more contact, and eventually a few flirts as well, leading to Alexei inviting – or begging more like – for Victor to join him at that party.

Victor sighed, he really wasn’t sure. Contrary to popular fan belief, Victor actually wasn’t too fond of large parties and getting wasted for the hell of it. He was one of the top skaters in the world, young as he was, and liked staying in peak physical form. But with that came notoriety, not being able to just buy a loaf of bread from the shops without someone recognising him and asking for an autograph. So the thought that if he could go out, disguised, he could actually just be himself. It was so tempting. Not to mention Alexei was flashing a gorgeous smile, and Victor’s knees might have wobbled just a little.

“Alright, I’ll go,” he conceded, “I’ll go. But I have to be home at twelve for Makka. Otherwise she’ll eat my shoes.”

“Nope! You gotta stay until at least two. It’s the rule.” Alexei smiled and bent over the counter more, closer to Victor’s face, could’ve almost kiss him if he reached a little more. He was a charmer. Cheeky. 

“What kind of party has rules?” Victor asked, laughing a little and leaning closer too while tilting his head, trying to reciprocate the flirting, to be enticing.

“Unspoken rules. The party doesn’t even get good until twelve anyway, so you have to stay. That’s when I bring out my dance moves.” Alexei wriggled an eyebrow, causing Victor to giggle. “Victor, come on! Victor, Vitya, please?” Alexei pleaded.

That did it. Victor couldn’t resist being called Vitya. Not when a beautiful man was saying it.

“Okay, I’ll stay till two.”

“Yay!”

~

The music was pumping, bodies were close, and Victor was tipsy. He’d pinned a wig on tightly and it was still holding for the moment. His face was made up expertly, completely changing his face shape. He was dressed in a different style to his own, one more tighter and as the youths call hip. _“Hotter”_ Alexei had said. He felt free at the party, no one had recognised him, people danced around him as if he was just another body on the living room dance floor, trying to have a good time. It was like nothing Victor had experienced in his adult life. Because he hadn’t. 

Alexei now stood in front of him holding a handful of various shaped drugs, offering Victor half.

“Come on, Victor!” Alexei shouted over the _thump thump thump_ of the bass. “You can’t party without these!”

Under normal circumstances, Victor would flat out deny the offer. A professional athlete, who prided himself on his physique and healthy habits. He was adamantly against drugs, receiving an annual lecture from Yakov on the problems they bring, to the body and to the job. 

But this wasn’t a normal circumstance. Victor wasn’t competing, the season had ended. He didn’t even have any skates scheduled, wanting to take a proper holiday for the first time. He was in disguise and no one would recognise or spread anything about him. The party was in full swing and everyone was enjoying themselves. The drinks were free and plenty. A handsome man who’d been flirting with Victor was offering. Why was Victor hesitating?

_Just this once_ , he promised himself. _Just this once to say I’ve done it_.

“Hand them over,” he yelled, holding his hand out to Alexei who immediately dropped half the pills into Victor’s hand.

Alexei scoffed the other half immediately, and then drunk deeply from the cup in his hands Victor recognised as the punch from the kitchen. Then Alexei shouted out loud, thrusting his hands into the air before pushing further into the dancing crowd.

Victor hesitated, thinking in a moment of clarity, before only taking one pill, a smaller one, and dropping the rest of the floor to be trampled into the carpet.

~

Within thirty minutes Victor could feel the effects of whatever it was he’d taken, and within an hour he was overwhelmed. He was drunk and high? He wasn’t exactly sure. All he knew was he felt sick, a bit helpless, and he needed air. He escaped the penthouse, needing a quiet space, found the elevator and went down.

On his descent he thought about the events that had brought him to that moment, and regretted most of them. He only seen Alexei once after he’d given Victor the pills, making out with someone on the balcony. Victor wasn’t even upset when he saw them, too sick to worry about others. He just needed to get out of the party, somewhere with cool fresh air, and no one to see if his disguise slipped. 

The elevator dinged and Victor got out, and left the building, walking a block, perhaps more – he wasn’t entirely sure – just straight down the road in a city that wasn’t going to sleep soon. He found a dark and quiet park, and sat himself on a bench, revelling in the cold air, hoping it would help the sick feelings and bring him back to sober.

~

Victor must have sat in that park for two hours before he started to get better. He checked the watch he wore, not bothering to bring his phone that night, and it was half past one in the morning. He groaned, thinking about Makka and how alone she probably felt. Then about the shoes she’d probably chewed up and groaned even more. Knowing his beloved pooch she’d probably gotten to the expensive ones. 

Victor stood and started to slowly make his way back up the street. Alexei had driven them to the party, and left his car in a nearby carpark. Victor was hoping that Alexei was soberish now too, that he could drive back home, or at the very least be alright with leaving the party and Victor driving home. It was probably too hopeful of a thought, but Victor didn’t have his phone to call a cab.

He walked and walked, not realising he’d walked so far in the first place, until he came to the familiar face of the building they’d entered five hours ago. But instead of other party goers going in, it was police and paramedics coming out. Victor stayed back, trying to keep out of sight and checking in the reflection of the windows that his disguise was still effective. A crowd had gathered, a mixture of sombre and drunk, and they and Victor watched as a gurney with a black plastic bag was wheeled out the building and into the waiting ambulance. 

It was obvious to Victor what was in that bag, but not who. It wasn’t until a group of people in front of Victor said _“Poor Alexei”_.

~

At two thirty in the morning, Yakov’s doorbell rang. 

“Wha- What the hell?” The old coach exclaimed, before the doorbell went again. Yakov looked at the clock on the wall, wanting to swear. “Who calls at this time in the morning?!”

With indignation provoked by exhaustion, Yakov pulled on his dressing gown, walked down the hall to the front door and wrenched it open, ready to scream bloody murder at whoever had woken him up.

Yakov’s star pupil stood on his doorstep, dressed in a wig, clothes and makeup that’d fool the unfamiliar, looking more distraught than anything Yakov had seen before.

“Vitya?” Yakov asked, really not believing what he was seeing.

All he could do was keep his balance as his student plunged into his house and wrapped his arms around Yakov, sobbing uncontrollably. Before anything else, Yakov shut the front door, not wanting anyone to know what was going on before he got to the truth. And as he considered the state of Victor in that moment, the truth may be a while away. As he held and comforted Victor as best he could while standing in a cold hallway, he could make out some words amongst the tears. _“It’s my fault”_ , he’d put together, and _“I didn’t know where to go”_ , but that was all.

It took some minutes before Yakov could lead Victor into the kitchen and plopped his student onto a stool. Neither said a word as Yakov poured a cold glass of water and slid it over to Victor. While Victor sipped, Yakov stood with his arms folded, waiting for an explanation. Seeing that Victor was unlikely to start on his own, Yakov flatly asked “What happened?”

~

By three thirty Yakov had the whole story and was driving back home with Victor’s mutt in his car. Never in his life was he more grateful than that night that he and Lilia had bought a house within walking distance from the city. Also that Lilia was in France for what Yakov liked to call ballet bootcamp, something that annoyed his prim and proper wife. _“It is not a_ bootcamp _, it is a prestigious training program that only accepts the best. A bootcamp is for hardheads who only dance to_ left right left." Yakov chuckled at that particular lecture, before remembering the current events. As regrettable as the entire situation was for Victor, Yakov’s close proximity was a blessing. 

When he got home and let the dog out the car, he took her inside to see where Victor was. While driving, Yakov had come up with a plan. Victor was not going to like it, soft hearted as he was, but it was either that or face shit storm that was most certainly going to hit. Yakov had seen it before, being in the sport for so long; seeing athletes lose their entire life for association with drugs. He was so disappointed in Victor, he truly didn’t know what to say. His entire career could have ended if anyone knew he was at that party.

Yakov found Victor in the kitchen, this time at the dining table, two steaming coffee cups at the ready and dog already at his side receiving scratches on the head. Yakov took a moment for a breath, before continuing into the room and sitting opposite his student, who looked so much younger and so much more broken than ever before.

“Vitya,” Yakov started, causing Victor to look up. “I need you to listen very closely to what I am going to say. And don’t but in,” he added pointedly. 

Victor nodded, keeping eye contact with his coach.

“I can understand your decision to go to that party tonight, and to hide your identity. I understand you wanting to drink and have a good time. But I will _never_ understand _or forgive your decision to take unknown substances from someone you barely know_!”

Victor looked away, shame rising until it felt as if it were hanging over his head like a cloud, showing the world what a terrible person he was.

“What you have done is entirely irresponsible,” Yakov continued, “and if you were any other student I wouldn’t hesitate to tell the police that you were there at that party, that you were that young man’s date, and then drop you as my student for irreversible idiocy!”

Every word stabbed at Victor’s heart. He knew he messed up. He should’ve done better. He deserved every word.

“Look at me,” Yakov said. Victor looked up, ready for the next round. “You are not going to like what I’m going to say next, but you _will_ follow every instruction. Down. To. The. Letter.”

Yakov jabbed his finger on the table for every word, glaring at his student and making sure it was sinking in how serious he was about to be.

“Tonight you are going to stay here, and tomorrow as well. Should anyone come knocking, we will say we are trying to finalise your season’s notes. This not uncommon for me to do and will not cause much suspicion. Tomorrow night you will go home, and go to bed. You will not call or message or email _anyone_. The next day, when the news will probably already be broken, you will post to social media what I will write for you, and _nothing else_. Should any reporters corner you, you say exactly what script I will give you. Anything to come from your mouth for the next month will be my words. Do you understand?”

Victor nodded, shame still seeping from him.

“I cannot emphasise enough how important it is that we give absolutely no indication that you were at that party, Vitya. As sad as it is for Alexei, you are still alive and have your entire career to consider. If there was even a _clue_ that you were at that party, you would be questioned, tested and exposed. It does not even matter that this is the first time you’ve taken something, the world will see _drug_ and _athlete_ and you will never skate again. There’d be uproar from other skaters and coaches who’d demand your achievements be stripped. Your sponsors would drop, and no others would give you offers. You’d be a liability. A cheat even. And eventually the sport would move on without you, no matter how brilliant you are. And no matter what happens, you can’t defend him, Vitya. This _cannot_ get out. Do you understand?”

Yakov watched as his student silently cried and nodded his head. 

“Enough for tonight. I am sure you want to rest. Take your dog and take the guest room. We’ll have a late breakfast and discuss this more in the morning.

~

Not even five hours after Alexei had been taken off by the ambulance did the word of his passing spread. Rumours of all sorts were circulated. Half of them were right. It wasn’t until the afternoon that Alexei’s coach gave a statement, with the official cause of death. Overdose. No one was surprised.

All day Victor did exactly as Yakov said, listened to every word, and stayed very quiet. Most of his day was spent with Makkachin on the couch in the den watching cheesy daytime tv. Yakov spent most the day in his office, monitoring the situation and writing up exactly what was to be said for any and every question that was sure to arise. 

_We will get out of this_ , Yakov thought to himself. _I will protect you, Vitya_.

~

_Present Day_

“So now you know,” Victor finished, unable to look Yuuri in the eye. His secret shame, the shadow in his past, finally coming into the light. Of course Yuuri’s opinion of him would change. Victor hid while the memory of another was smeared and trashed, as if his final choices were his entire character. He prepared himself for the inevitable disgust.

“Victor, look at me,” Yuuri said softly, reaching out to gently touch Victor’s face and guiding him to look at Yuuri. The beautiful blue and happy eyes Yuuri was used to were clouded with sadness. “Oh Victor.”

Victor started to cry, and despite his attempts to stop Yuuri, Yuuri brought Victor into a crushing hug. It was several minutes of Victor unleashing all his emotions while Yuuri just held him close. And when Victor had calmed down a bit, Yuuri pulled back to look him in the eye, brushing away the few stray tears that kept falling. 

“Even when you cry you are beautiful,” Yuuri said, smiling softly.

Victor practically sputtered. “Yuuri, how can you say that?” He looked incredulously at Yuuri who only smiled a little more.

“Because it’s true. Even like this you’re still beautiful. Body and mind.”

“Mind?” Victor asked confusingly. “Yuuri, I just told you I left a man alone to die, and didin’t tell anyone! Even from the police! I kept it secret all these years. How can you say I have a beautiful mind when I did something like that?”

“You could never have known he would die, Victor.”

“But-” Victor started, but Yuuri interrupted him.

“No, Victor. It was not your choices that led to his death. Alexei chose to take drugs, _multiple drugs_ from what you’ve said. And alcohol. Every professional athlete knows the consequences. We’re always being tested. Alexei knew this and still took them.”

“But I took them too!” Victor protested. “Alexei wasn’t a bad person!”

“I’m not saying he was.” Yuuri reached for Victor’s hand, bringing up to his mouth and laying a gentle kiss on top, trying to calm him. “But you can’t say he didn’t make bad choices. _You_ made a bad choice, taking that pill.”

Victor pulled away from Yuuri, bringing his knees up and curling in on himself. He knew Yuuri would hate him, would judge him for his shameful actions. He heard Yuuri sigh.

“Victor, everyone makes bad choices. _I’ve_ made bad choices. But your choices did not affect Alexei. Only his did.”

“But I said yes to going to that party,” Victor said, looking at Yuuri again. “I could’ve said no, I could’ve asked if he wanted to watch a movie instead, or go out for dinner-”

“Or you could’ve learnt to French braid Makkachin’s hair, or danced naked in the street!” Yuuri tried, earning a small huff from Victor. “Victor. Vitya,” he said. “You can’t live thinking of all the things you could have done. It will only lead to more despair. Accepting what happened, and that it was out of your control, is the healthiest and fairest thing you can do for yourself.

“You are a beautiful person Vitya, inside and out. And the fact that you still feel guilty about Alexei’s passing shows how much you care. And I love you, no matter what’s in your past, just as you love me despite mine. But – and I know you probably won’t like this – but what Yakov made you do was right.”

This caused Victor to look incredulously at Yuuri. “What?” he asked. It wasn't that Victor was mad at what Yakov made him do and say, but his guilt from it all made him want to be honest in the first place, and being told to stay quiet played on his conscious heavily.

“Well,” Yuuri continued, “If you were found to be at that party, you probably would’ve been questioned, then tested. You would’ve failed the test. No one would sponsor you because you still hadn’t peaked in your career yet. You wouldn’t have changed the sport as you have, travelled the world, met me.” Yuuri smiled at the last bit, and Victor couldn’t help but smile a little bit too, because it was true. If he’d admitted his attendance to that party, he wouldn’t have met Yuuri. And despite the guilt he felt for Alexei, Yuuri’s love was more powerful a feeling. 

“I owe Yakov a lot, don’t I?” Victor asked, sighing.

“I think we both do,” Yuuri replied.

The pair settled down for the night, barely watching the tv while they talked about the little things. Slowly Victor started to feel better, spending the time with Yuuri, just enjoying each other’s company, slowly but surely dozing off after the events of the day. 

Yuuri had already fallen asleep when Victor had an idea, and when he ran it by Yuuri in the morning Yuuri agreed it was perfect.

Just before their flight home, Victor posted a picture of him and Alexei to social media.

_Alexei and I used to share an ice rink. I always remember him as being cheeky and playful, but studious as well. He was never one to miss his practice time, he put all of himself into his skating, and always praised and encouraged other skaters. It is almost eight years since Alexei died, and I am reminded by this photo how much he’s missed out on, and wonder what skating would’ve been like if he were still here. The events of his death were tragic, and the events following as well. Many were quick to judge and condemn. The hate took its toll on many of us who were just fellow skaters, so I can’t imagine what it was like for those close to him. People remember him only from these events, instead of what he’d achieved and the person he was. I want it clear that I don’t support drug use, and I am not saying he was a perfect person, but Alexei was more than his last hours. I choose to remember him as I knew him. A good skater and a decent person._

**Author's Note:**

> Been going through personal growth for like the last 7 months, which unfortunately the pandemic has pushed me back a bit. This came to me within seconds and I wrote the bulk in a few hours. 
> 
> I hope everyone is doing alright with how the world is right now. I know I'm not coping all that well, so I can't image what it's like for those less fortunate than I. But gotta look out for mental health, and writing this helped. So if writing or reading helps you, I encourage you to so if you can.
> 
> Sending my love to you all <3


End file.
